It's A Wonderful Life
by SWWoman
Summary: A depressed John Reese gets the George Bailey treatment from a cheerful angel named Mildred.
1. Chapter 1

**As usual, I don't own any character that has appeared on the show.**

**There will be 2 chapters total.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

It was a few days before Christmas and John Reese sat on a bench on the edge of some park, he wasn't even sure which one, staring at the liquor store across the street, wondering if maybe the world would be better off if he just gave up and went back to being just another homeless drunk.

All of Reese's assorted failures were weighing heavily on him. While Reese's failures were few, when he did fail, people, often innocent people, died, and he felt every single one in his heart. The cheer of the holiday season just made his failures stand out in starker contrast than normal.

John considered his last case a failure. The Machine had spat out six numbers, all siblings, and it had taken John a while to work his way through the case and discover that one of the siblings was trying to kill the others for the family money. Before John and his employer, Harold Finch, had figured it out, one of the numbers had died in a staged car crash. Despite assurances from Finch that he had solved the case as fast as humanly possible, John was still angry with himself that someone under his protection had died.

Adding to John's troubles was the fact that his old enemy, Carl Elias, was still actively running his criminal organization despite the fact he was in prison. John had once saved Elias from the Russian Mob, thinking he was an innocent high school English teacher, and John had been very upset to discover that he had saved the life of a vicious crime lord instead. Finch had tried to soothe John's guilt, but John insisted that all the blood that was on Elias's hands was on his hands now, too. And John felt every drop weigh him down just a bit more. Elias had added to the blood just the day before by ordering a hit on a high ranking member of the Russian Mob, and some innocent civilians and been caught in the crossfire.

Not only had he been fooled by Elias, he had been fooled by Samantha Groves, AKA Root, as well. Thinking she was an innocent psychologist with an contract on her life he had led her right to Finch, and poor gentle Harold had spent some very traumatizing days in the crazy woman's clutches. Finch was still recovering from the ordeal and was still shy about going out in open spaces unless he was accompanied by Reese or Bear.

Adding to John's already staggering load of guilt, the woman he secretly loved, Detective Joss Carter, was also under constant scrutiny from the CIA because of him. Agent Snow had vanished, and normally that would have been cause for celebration, but Reese was suspect number one in the disappearance and Snow's replacement was all over Carter constantly, convinced that she would lead him to John. Carter told Reese not to worry, she could handle it, but Reese was angry with himself for bringing all this trouble down on her. She never should have gotten mixed up with him, she deserved so much better.

John should have cut off contact with Carter long ago for her own good, but he had not been able to bring himself to do it. He cared for her too much, and he had simply not been able to face the thought of never seeing her again. Now she was paying the price for his selfishness, another failure on his part. She would be so much better off without him in her life. That thought made his heart hurt, but it was the truth.

As a matter of fact, it would probably have been better for a lot of people if Finch had not plucked him from the gutter and given him a job and a purpose. He should have of just died alone and drunk on the street. If Harold had never found John, Root never would have found Harold, Elias would be dead, Joss would not be on the CIA's radar and her son Taylor would never have been kidnapped. Even Fusco would probably be better off without Reese; at least then he could go on a date without being interrupted.

John could not help but feel that ultimately all this was his fault for being such a fool to think he could seek a measure of redemption by working with Finch on those damned numbers. How naive he had been to think that he could actually make a difference and do some good.

So John sat on the bench, giving into the despair and guilt. He stared at the liquor store across the street again, wondering if maybe he should just go over there and buy enough whiskey to end his pain. He should just go back to the streets and leave everyone be.

He actually started to get up to walk over there and do just that. "I would not do that" he heard a chipper voice at his elbow.

Startled, he turned to see an elderly lady with pink cheeks and puffy white hair seated at the other end of the bench, smiling an angelic smile over at him. He had no idea how she got there or how long she had been sitting there. How the hell had she snuck up on him like that?

"Sorry to startle you, sweetie, but the powers I work for are not happy about your current plans for yourself", and she smiled another cheerful smile at him, with a twinkle in her blue eyes.

"The powers you work for? Who would send a little old lady to save ME?" John asked incredulously.

"Oh, honey, I just look like a little old lady. We thought you would find this form….less threatening. We know you are rather jumpy, given your current and former occupations."

"Well, you got the less threatening part right; I've seen kittens that look less threatening. But who do you work for?"

"Well, you might find this hard to believe, but different cultures call my employer different things. Most westerners like you would use the term God. Some call them The Powers That Be. Some call it fate or even destiny."

"So you're some sort of angel?" Reese smirked. He was actually amused by the deluded little lady.

"Yes, that is close enough", she said in a matter of fact tone of voice.

Reese looked over at her in amusement, but he was met with a sight of a towering avenging angel, complete with wings and armor surrounded by a bright heavenly light that seared its image onto his retinas. Reese yelped in pain and dropped to his knees off the bench pushing he heels of his hands into his eye sockets to stop the burning.

He felt a soothing hand on his shoulder and suddenly the pain was gone and he was able to open his eyes. "Sorry about that, honey, but I do not have a lot of time, so I needed to convince you quickly."

John managed to lift himself back up on the bench. He stared open mouthed at the woman sitting next him for a few minutes. She smiled sweetly at him, "You're wondering why I am here? Why you?"

"Among other things", John said slowly.

"I am here because you are thinking about killing yourself or at least walking away from Harold and the numbers. You are thinking about walking away from all the good you do and will do. We need you to continue your work."

John hung his head and looked away, "I think you have the wrong person, I'm nothing but a killer."

"You have done a lot of good, John. You have saved a lot lives", the lady said softly, kindly.

"I've done some monstrous things, unforgivable things."

"No human is perfect, John. You were lied to and used, we understand that. We have big plans for you."

"I seem to a lot less perfect than most."

"You are not as bad as you think. You are a warrior, John, but you always strived to be a warrior for good and for what is right."

"Yeah, well you can't prove it to me. The people close to me would be better off if I had died in that gutter", John said bitterly, a picturing a crying Joss hugging Taylor after the kidnapping in his mind, a kidnapping that happened because of one of John's numerous mistakes.

"Suppose I could prove it to you?" the angel chirped.

"What?"

The lady had a twinkle in her eye. "What would you say if I COULD prove it to you? Prove that you are good, and that you do important work. I can prove to you that the people around you are better off with you than without you."

John looked her and snorted. "I don't see how you can do THAT."

"Honey, I am an angel, do not forget. I am going show you what would have happened to the people around if you had died before Harold found you."

John's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline, "Oh, so now I'm George Bailey and you're Clarence?"

"My name is actually Mildred, but, yes, that is the idea. It's one of my favorite movies"

"Angels watch MOVIES?"

"We have a lot of spare time while we wait for the Final Conflict."

Reese put his head in his hands, "I must be dreaming."

"It is very real, John, and, as you will see, the stakes are very high. Here take my hand."

John reached out and tentatively touched Mildred's hand like it was a snake about to strike. He gasped, as soon as they made contact, he felt peaceful and content. He closed his eyes; it felt so good to not feel the pain anymore. He was…happy.

Mildred was watching him closely with a smile of her face. "This is what heaven feels like John. When we are done, you can choose to end your pain and feel like this for all eternity, or you can choose to remain here and continue your work."

Reese was overwhelmed. "I forgot it was possible to feel like this. I've hurt for so long…"

Mildred smiled at him, then she got up and starting walking, John kept his grip on her hand and walked alongside her. He felt light and airy, almost giddy, and he was not about to let go of Mildred if she was the one making him feel this good.

* * *

The next thing John knew, he was standing in a cemetery with grave markers that were few and far between. He could see lights of New York off in the distance, but he did not recognize the place. Mildred obviously knew this and she leaned over to him, "Potter's Field on Hart Island. The final destination for everyone who dies homeless and unidentified in New York City. Your final resting place."

"I'm dead?"

"Yes dear, you died before Harold found you, just as you wanted. You went to sleep one night in the homeless camp and just did not wake up the next morning."

John sighed, "A much more peaceful end than I thought I would I get. I always thought I would die in a hail of bullets or stabbed to death in some alley in some third world country."

"Unfortunately you still died in a place that did not know your name, and it was your own country."

John shrugged, "I'm not surprised, really. I was ready for this."

He heard someone approaching, and looked up to see Mark Snow and his partner Evans walking across the field, they were checking a map. They stopped in front of a grave.

"This the one?" Evans asked.

Snow nodded, "According to the map, he's right here."

"You're sure it was him?"

"Fingerprints don't lie."

Evans looked perturbed, "Hell of way for someone like him to wind up. Are we going to dig him up and put him someplace more fitting for someone who served his country for so many years?"

"Nope", Snow said, "He died a drunk in the gutter, and he was buried as a drunk in the gutter. He knew what he signed up for."

Evans shook his head, "At least he died on US soil, not very many of us get to do that."

"For men like us, that's about the best we can hope for. Still, I would have liked to debrief him about Ordos."

"Do you think Stanton survived?"

"Reese had orders to kill her, and he never missed. He was one of the best."

And with that, Snow and Evans left.

John looked over at Mildred. "Just wait a minute", she chirped at him.

After Snow and Evans were out of sight, Kara Stanton emerged from the shadows. John's eyes opened wide in surprise to see her. Kara was about the most unsentimental person he had ever met. She was the last person he expected to see at his grave.

Kara stared down at the grave for a few moments, finally she spoke. "You never did give into the dark, did you John? It would have been easier for you if you had, you know. You wouldn't have died like this, going out with a whimper." She paused. "You deserved better than this. Snow was right, you were one of the best. You were the best partner I ever had."

Then she followed Snow and Evans.

John watched her go, somewhat surprised. He never knew that Kara thought of him that way.

"Was that surprising to you?" Mildred smiled up at him.

John looked down at the chipper little woman next to him, "This is really weird. I never thought I would attend my own funeral."

Mildred patted his hand, "It's OK, everyone feels like that at first. But let me show you what your pain has bought those around you. Shall we start with Lionel?"

* * *

Before Reese knew it, they were in a bar frequented by cops, but John was confused because he knew this bar and it was very far away from Hart Island. Mildred must have sensed his confusion because she leaned over and whispered to him, "Do not get too wrapped up in the logistics, I am an angel after all. Just watch Lionel."

Fusco was sitting with Detective Stills and a bunch of cops that John recognized as other members of HR, but Stills was dead?

Once again Mildred leaned over to whispered to him, "No, Stills is alive and well, remember that first case you worked with Harold? Since you are dead and never worked on the case, Stills is still alive and he was able to kill the ADA and his little boy. Poor loyal Lionel is getting in deeper with HR. He will be dead soon."

"Dead, how?"

"You will see in good time."

Stills leaned over to Fusco, "I got a job for you."

"Sure, anything you need", Fusco said jovially.

"You know Detective Szymanski? Over at the 43rd, in the Organized Crime Unit?"

"No, not personally", Fusco was wary now.

"Well, he's getting too close to some friends of ours; we need to take him out."

Fusco looked startled and then looked around to be sure no one was listening. "You want me to kill another cop? Seriously?" he hissed at Stills.

"He's sticking his nose in our business. He's good, too. If we don't do something soon, we're going down and I ain't going down", Stills snarled.

Fusco looked unsure, killing another cop was huge step, and it was obvious to John that Fusco wasn't sure he wanted to take that step.

"Come on Fusco, do you want your kid to watch your trial on TV or something?"

"If I get caught…"

"You won't, Szymanski likes to work out late at night in a gym near his place. Just take him down as he's leaving, make it look like a mugging gone wrong."

John could see the Fusco was struggling. He licked his lips and his eyes darted nervously over the rest of the bar.

"Don't do it Lionel", John muttered to himself. John found he was very tense, like he was watching a horror movie waiting for the monster to jump out, wondering if Lionel would cross that line. To his surprise, John found himself routing for Lionel. Who would have he thought he cared about the big lug?

Fusco finally nodded his head. "Alright, but if I'm going to do this, I'm going to get a good pay out. Three thousand isn't going to cut it this time."

"Shit", John snapped. He glanced over at Mildred, "Sorry for the swearing."

Mildred smiled, "No problem, I have heard much worse in every language known to man and a few that were not."

Mildred turned and walked out of the bar with John following, but instead of walking out onto the city street that should have been there, they walked directly into some woods. John realized they were the woods around Oyster Bay, the favorite body dumping ground for HR. The place where Fusco was going dump John's body on that first day.

John saw Fusco and Stills in front of him. Fusco had his back to Stills and Stills had a gun aimed at the back of Fusco's head.

"You screwed up Fusco, you got sloppy. Someone has got to go down for killing Szymanski, and it's gotta be you. There was a witness, they saw you", Stills was saying.

"What about my kid?" Fusco said, an edge of fear creeping into his voice.

"What about him? Your ex will raise him, and tell him as little as possible about his dirty dad", Stills sneered.

John started to move forward, going for his gun at the small of his back, but Mildred reached out and grabbed his arm in an iron grip that even Reese couldn't break. "John", she said softly, "we cannot intervene, what is done is done. You cannot save Lionel now, he made his choice."

Fusco tried to argue, "Hey, I only did what I was told, like I always do. You're the one who screwed up, it was your plan."

Stills shook his head, "Someone has got to pay for your screw-up." And he put a bullet in Fusco's head.

"It is too bad", Mildred said sadly looking at Lionel lying face down in the dirt, "Lionel was so close to redemption working with you. What a waste of a soul."

Reese turned away, "He made his own bed." He sounded harsh, even to himself.

"Oh come now, John, Lionel was not a bad man once you found him. Remember how happy he was when he helped that man who was incarcerated because the fake Jordan Hester stole his identity and used it to manufacture drugs? Remember how he saved you from being shot by that HR cop?"

Reese just looked at Mildred and shook his head; his eyes were hard and cold.

"Oh, you are a tough one!" she chirped. "But you have to admit, Lionel is better off with you in his life. You are the reason he did not wind up dead at Oyster Bay. You are the reason he is trying to be one of the good guys, because you started him down the right path. Just as Harold saved you, you saved Lionel."

John looked at Mildred, somewhat startled, he had never thought of it that way. Mildred smiled at him in triumph, knowing she had scored a point.

"Let us move on to Harold, shall we?" she smiled at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Mildred and John walked into the Lyric Diner. John spotted Finch in a booth, but he didn't look quite like the Harold that John had come to know and rely on. Harold looked smaller somehow, more frightened and paranoid. His movements seemed stiffer than John remembered, and pain was etched on his face.

Mildred seated them so John had a good view of Finch. "What is the matter John? You look troubled", she chirped at him.

John frowned, "Finch doesn't look quite right, what happened to him?"

"Nothing. Well, nothing you do not already know about." Mildred said calmly.

"But something's wrong with him", Reese insisted.

"Of course there is, dear. He does not have you for a partner." Mildred informed him matter of factly.

John looked at Mildred, "I don't understand. He should be safer now that we're not chasing down the numbers. Root will never find him now."

Mildred gave John a look that plainly said she thought he was being dense. "I will walk you through it. Remember how Harold once told you that the numbers had haunted him?"

"Yes, I do."

"Remember how he told you he tried to work the numbers by himself and he was unable to do so because he lacked certain skills?"

John looked down at the table, "Yes". He was starting to understand where this was going.

"He does not have you for a partner, so the numbers still haunt him and he is completely helpless to do anything about it. He knows that out there, there people are dying preventable deaths, and he is unable to intervene.

"When something haunts you for that long it takes a terrible toll. Harold is paying that price, knowing about the Irrelevants and not being able to do anything to save them is eating him alive. Every day he looks at the list, and every day he sees another lost opportunity. I suspect it will kill him shortly."

"Why can't he get another partner? There are plenty of ex-CIA agents out there, ex-cops, ex-FBI. Why doesn't he get one of those?"

"John, I don't think you understand how unique you really are. Think about it for a few minutes, do you really think an ex-police officer or ex-FBI agent would have your skill set?"

"OK, no, you're right. But there are other ex-CIA agents out there."

"Would you want to match Harold up with a Mark Snow?"

"Snow is a sociopath, I don't want him anywhere near Harold. That's one reason I was thinking of going back to the gutter, to keep the CIA away from my friends", John hissed.

"Well then you see the problem, John. Very, very few of the people who have your skill set also retain their souls. Mark Snow's is gone, Kara Stanton's is gone, both of them are beyond redemption; not that they would look for it anyway. You never completely gave yours up, and that is why Harold picked you, and why he hunted for you for so long. Bless his gentle little soul, he knew he couldn't pick just anyone, he had to pick someone who was still somewhat intact, someone who still felt things like compassion and empathy. He has been looking, but he cannot find anyone else still alive who fits that description and is willing to work with him."

John hung his head for a long minute. "At least Harold is safe. No one will try to kill him, he'll stay hidden and Root won't find him."

"No, she will not, but Harold's life is not peaceful either. He will just waste away slowly, thinking constantly of the people he should be saving and cannot save. The Irrelevants will magnify every ache and pain he has, they will make him feel so alone that he will go a little mad. He will be his generation's Howard Hughes."

John spun on Mildred, vibrating with anger, "What kind of God would let that happen to a person like Harold? All he wanted to do was prevent the next 9/11! Why can't he just have a peaceful, quiet life like he deserves? The universe owes him that much."

Mildred met his anger calmly, but forcefully. "The universe does not owe anyone anything. Men lead the lives they do because of the choices they make. Harold chose to build the Machine and he chose to ignore the Irrelevant list until it was too late, despite the warnings from Nathan. He accepts his choices and the consequences that come with them. The machine has prevented several 9/11s and Harold is quite willing to trade his life for that legacy. He does not regret building the Machine; he only regrets the loss of the Irrelevants."

Finch got up from his booth stiffly, his movements were definitely much more stiff and painful looking than Reese had seen before. He limped slowly to the door and to a car waiting at the curb for him. Mildred took John's hand and led him towards the door, but when they walked through the door, they were not out on the street that was so familiar to John, they were in a church. Obviously a funeral was about to start and Finch seated himself in one of the back pews.

John looked over at Mildred questioningly. "It is a funeral for one of the numbers, another battered woman, her number came up again and again. Harold tried to get her away from her husband. He offered her money so she could flee and start a new life, but she was too frightened to listen. She was afraid her husband would track her down and punish her. Her husband shot her shortly after she spoke with Harold. He is in jail now, and he probably will spend the rest of his life there, but it was too late to save this poor woman."

John watched Finch as his eyes filled with tears and his shoulders slumped just a tiny bit more.

"Each number, each failure, adds just a bit more to his troubles", Mildred continued. "Like the straws on the camels back, until just one more will break him."

John jumped up and stormed out of the church, angry at the injustice of it all. Mildred shrugged and followed behind, finding John leaning with his back against a light pole, head thrown back, eyes closed, fists clenching and unclenching, struggling for control.

Mildred patted his arm, but John did not feel any peace at her touch this time. "I am sorry you have to see this John. But it's important you know the impact your life has had before you throw it away."

John opened his eyes, but didn't move. Staring up at the sky, a tear ran down his cheek. "What about Carter?" he asked, "Where is she?"

Mildred smiled, "Ah yes, your beloved Jocelyn." John looked at her sharply. "Oh do not worry; your secret is safe with me, though I do think you should tell her how you feel."

John snorted, "No, going to happen, she has enough trouble in her life without having to deal my baggage too."

"She is already dealing with it in the form of various CIA and FBI agents. She might as well get a loving partner out of it", Mildred pointed out.

"She wouldn't have me anyway", John said sadly. "She knows what I am."

"You might be surprised, John", Mildred said kindly.

Reese sighed deeply, "I want to see her, I want to know she's alright."

Mildred hesitated and for the first time the night looked a tiny but unsure. _Aha,_ John thought, _Joss is better off without me and Mildred doesn't want me to know._

John began asking questions, "I never saved Elias, so the Russian Mob killed him, right? So he never had the chance to put the hit on Joss, right?"

Mildred nodded, "Yes to both questions, John".

"Taylor never got kidnapped, and he never saw that security guard killed, right?"

"Yes."

"So Joss and Taylor are better off without me, right?"

"No."

"No? Are you sure? There's no Elias in this world, how can they not be better off without me? Show me, I want to see Joss."

"You will not like what you see. I had hoped showing you Harold and Lionel would be enough, so you would not have to see Jocelyn too."

That got John's attention and he grabbed Mildred's upper arms and looked her straight in the eye. "Does that mean she's not alright? Tell me!" he said with a hint of panic in his voice.

Mildred met his eyes with her usual calm demeanor. "No, John, she is not OK. I will show you if you really want to see, but what you will see is going to hurt you deeply."

"I need to know, please, show me." John's stomach clenched in fear.

Mildred nodded, "You have that right." And she turned walked off down the street with John following close behind.

Mildred turned into an alley and suddenly it wasn't day anymore, it was night, late at night John judged by the lack of activity in the area and the position of the moon in the sky.

"Where are we?" he asked Mildred.

"Remember about two weeks ago, Jocelyn went out one night to interview a witness to the murder of Zackary Brady?"

"Yes, she had arranged to see him when he got off work that night, but he took a shot at her instead. Turns out he was the one who killed Brady."

"This is the alley where she was shot."

John relaxed a bit. Joss had been wearing her Kevlar vest, and the weapon was a small caliber, fired from a medium distance, so she had not been hurt badly. She had a bruise, and was cranky and sore for a couple of days, but the only real casualty had been her pride and one of her favorite blouses.

At the time, the incident had scared John badly. He had been across town working on a number, and had been furious with himself for not being there for her. He had hunted the murderer down, beat him up good, and left him for Carter as a sort of "Sorry I wasn't there and you got hurt" present. Carter had rolled her eyes at him, but he had caught the smile on her lips that she had tried to hide and he knew he had pleased her by getting a murderer off the streets.

But knowing that Joss had survived intact, John wasn't worried now. He and Mildred watched as the witness walked rapidly into the alley, followed by Joss. "Wait, you were going to talk to me, remember?" she called after him.

The man whirled on Joss and whipped out a small handgun, "I don't want to talk at all, bitch", and he squeezed off a couple of shots at her chest. He stepped over her body and walked out of the alley.

John watched in horror as Joss crumpled to the ground and lay still. The world paused for a few seconds as he waited for her to get up, but she didn't move at all. She didn't even writhe in pain like she did after Bottlecap had shot her all those months ago. Aware that there was something very wrong, he ran to her and dropped to his knees. He pulled open her blazer, but there was no vest, just a bright red stain over her heart that was slowly spreading across her shirt. Her eyes stared sightlessly up at the night sky.

"NO! It didn't happen that way! She was wearing her vest!" John looked up at Mildred, his face stricken with grief. "This already happened, she didn't die, her vest stopped the bullet. Where is her vest? Why isn't she wearing her vest?" That last sentence was more a wail of anguish than question. He held Joss's body to his, ignoring the blood that was getting all over him, pressing his lips to her forehead while tears flowed down his cheeks. "She didn't die", he sobbed burying his face in her neck.

Mildred reached down and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You talked to her on the phone right before she came here, do you remember what you said to her?"

"I told her to be careful and to wear her vest, like I always do." John froze, comprehension dawning on his face. Ever since she had started working with him, John always reminded her to wear her vest whenever she left the precinct on a case. Joss always got irritated with him, saying "Yes, dad", in a mocking tone of voice, but John persisted. The night Bottlecap had shot her figured prominently in his nightmares, and he was not about to lose her to some random punk.

Mildred confirmed what he had just figured out. "Yes, John. Your constant reminders to her to wear her vest had saved her life this night. But you died before you ever met her, you were not there to remind her, so she did not take the time to put the vest on. All she thought she was going to do was interview a witness, so she did not think she would need it.

"Because you are dead, in the end, she was all alone. No one came to save her", Mildred finished.

John was sobbing now, pressing his face into Joss's lifeless body, holding her against him. Hearing those words that he spoke to Jessica in the airport all those years ago nearly destroyed him. All he had wanted to do was to give Joss back her life, the life he thought he had ruined by his presence. He had wanted Joss and Taylor to go back to normal, and now he knew that that was not even an option. Joss had one of two destinies, either life with him in it and all his bad baggage or no life at all. The universe had played a vicious trick on her, a cosmic bait and switch.

He looked down at the body he still held in his arms. He reached up, tenderly closed her eyes and pressed his cheek, wet from tears, to hers. "Don't worry", he whispered to her, "I'll fix this. Taylor WILL grow up with his mom, I promise."

"Send me back", John said, looking up at Mildred. "I can't let this happen, any of it. I have to save her and Finch and Fusco."

Mildred knelt down and put a hand on John's shoulder, "Are you sure? Are you sure your life is worth living now? You are willing to forgo the peace of the next life for a while longer?"

John laid Joss's body down gently on the ground. Tenderly, he pushed a lock of hair that escaped her ponytail behind her ear. He kissed her on the lips and stood up.

"Yes, I understand what I have to do now. Send me back."

"So be it", Mildred said.

John found himself sitting on the bench where he first met Mildred. The liquor store was still right across the street, but his desire to drink had vanished. He understood his purpose now, and he realized that he had been given a real gift. He knew that his life meant something, that all the sacrifices he had made were making a difference.

His heart felt lighter. For the first time in years he felt peaceful.

He checked his watch, no time had passed since he had sat down; Mildred had dropped him back into the same exact moment in time where they had met.

He thought of a certain detective. Despite his deep feelings for her, he had never acted on them. With his inner demons constantly nagging at him, he did not feel ready to be with anyone, even someone he loved as much as her. But those demons were quiet now, and he knew for certain that they were not going to return, ever.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and punched the preset for Joss's number.

"Carter", came Joss's impatient voice over his earpiece. John closed his eyes for a second then looked up at the sky and mouthed the words, "Thank you". A tear trickled down his cheek.

"John is that you?" Joss snapped impatiently. "I have work to do!"

"Sorry, yes, it's me. I was wondering if I could buy you a drink after work?"

**The End**

**Happy Holidays to all the Irreverents!**


	3. Epilogue

**Yeah, yeah, I know I said I was done after chapter 2, but after Blacktop asked to see the drink John asked Joss out for, I think I would give it a try. Hope you all like it!**

* * *

**Epilogue**

_He pulled his phone from his pocket and punched the preset for Joss's number._

"_Carter", came Joss's impatient voice over his earpiece. John closed his eyes for a second then looked up at the sky and mouthed the words, "Thank you". A tear trickled down his cheek._

"_John is that you?" Joss snapped impatiently. "I have work to do!"_

"_Sorry, yes, it's me. I was wondering if I could buy you a drink after work?"_

"Not another case, John! I haven't finished writing up the report from the last one!" Joss knew she sounded whiny, but she couldn't help it. Between her job, helping John with his cases, raising her son, and getting ready for Christmas, she had not had time to relax for weeks. She was feeling more than little frazzled at this point.

"No, no new case. I just wanted to do something nice for you. It is Christmas after all."

"No strings attached?" Joss asked suspiciously.

John smiled. "No, none", he said softly.

"Alright, I guess I can do that. Where?"

"Gaiser's at six."

"Um, gee, I don't know John. Gaiser's is a pretty fancy place; I don't think I'm dressed for that."

"You're wearing a pants suit right? They get a business crowd right after work, so you'll be fine." John didn't tell her that as far as he was concerned she could wear jeans and a t-shirt and she would be the prettiest woman in the place.

"Alright, John, I'll see you then."

John hung up with what could only be described as a huge shit-eating grin on his face. He felt so light for the first time in years and he was finally going to spend some quality time with his beloved Joss. He glanced at his watch, it was a little bit after two, so he had some time to pick out an appropriate present. He was not going to go this "date" empty handed, he was going to do this right.

He spied a small family jeweler down the street. Perfect. He hastily entered the shop before it occurred to him he had no idea what he was doing. He stopped just inside the door, wishing he had consulted Finch first. Finch had more experience with this kind of thing, he had been with Grace for four years after all, and John was terrified of messing this up. It was far too important to him.

Before he could execute a strategic retreat, he was approached by a middle aged woman with classic Persian features, a matronly figure with an accent that placed her origins as from the area around Bagdad.

"Can I help you?" she asked with a smile.

"Um, I'm looking for gift, f…for a friend", John stumbled a bit over the words, then he shot her a sheepish grin. "I really don't know what I'm doing."

Mrs. Sharif smiled a reassuring smile at the handsome, well dressed stranger. She and her husband had owned this shop for thirty years, and she was used to this situation. She would handle it like the pro she was.

"This friend of yours, is she a close friend? Is she your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend, yet. I hope to change that."

Mrs. Sharif beamed at the handsome stranger, "Do you love her?"

John thought about it for a brief minute and then finally admitted to Mrs. Sharif something he had hidden from himself for a long time, "Yes I do. She's tough and brave and smart." John paused, "And she's beautiful". He blushed a bit.

Mrs. Sharif was delighted, she was a full-on romantic, and one of the perks of her job was getting to see lots of happy people in love. She smiled a knowing smile, "So nothing too big or expensive, but big enough to let her know you that you care. What is she like? Does she like fancy things? Or does she prefer more simple things?"

"She's not one for a lot of fuss."

"Hmm, so more simple than fancy. Does she wear a lot of jewelry?"

"She's a cop. She wears earrings all the time and necklaces once in awhile."

Mrs. Sharif nodded sagely, "So earrings, simple, tasteful, elegant. Nothing ostentatious, something a cop can wear on the job." She moved briskly to a counter display case the contained a dazzling array of sparkling jewels. "What color does she look best in?"

John followed her over to the display case, "Um, all of them, really. But she looks amazing in red."

"Rubies then", and Mrs. Sharif began pulling boxes of earrings out and placing them on the counter for John to examine. It was a tough choice; everything Mrs. Sharif showed him was perfect. He finally settled on a pair that looked like small gold nuggets that had just been pulled from the river, with a couple of tastefully sized rubies embedded in each one. He paid for his purchase and left, thanking Mrs. Sharif for her help.

Mrs. Sharif watched the handsome stranger leave with an indulgent smile. She didn't think that once he revealed his feelings to this "friend" of his, that the woman would be able to resist a man like him. She had a feeling he would be back to buy many more gifts for the lucky woman. Maybe even a diamond ring someday? She was looking forward to watching the story of this relationship play out.

* * *

Joss stood in front of the mirror in the ladies room of the 8th precinct, running a comb through her thick black hair. She frowned at her reflection, she wished she'd had enough warning that she was going to place like Gaiser's so that she could dress properly. No matter what John said, she was going to be the worst dressed person in the place. Gaiser's would be full of lawyers and stockbrokers whose shoes cost more than that she made in a week. She was going to be the little brown sparrow in the room full of peacocks.

Great, her first chance to be alone with John in a social setting, and she was going as the ugly stepsister.

Joss had been fighting her feelings for John Reese for months. Joss rarely let people in since she had been hurt so many times in the past, starting with Taylor's father. He had walked out on her when Taylor was small and had never tried to contact them since. She had tried to date, but once men got a taste of her insane life, they bolted. She had a few close friends and some family and she had learned to content herself with that small circle of trusted people. She had pretty much given up on love and now here she was, falling for the one person whose life was even more insane than hers. Somehow, John Reese had wormed his way in. She wasn't really sure how or when, but there he was, smiling that smirk at her with an amused twinkle in his sexy blue eyes from inside her heart.

She was pretty sure he didn't feel the same way about her. He didn't even call her by her first name, she was Carter to him. She was an asset to him, nothing more. He probably hadn't even noticed that she was female.

She had a terrible feeling that this was all going to end badly for her battered heart.

She seriously considered calling and begging off with some excuse like she had to work late, but she knew Reese would know it was a lie. She was stuck, all she could was march in there with her head held high and hope it was dark enough in the bar that John didn't notice he wasn't with the Belle of the Ball. She could only hope he wouldn't laugh at her.

* * *

John was sitting in a back booth of the bar at Gaiser's, nursing a beer, checking his watch every few seconds as he waited for Carter. He checked his pocket for the box with the earrings for what was probably the fiftieth time since he'd sat down. He was nervous for the first time in a very, very long time. Between the CIA and the Army, John had been trained to handle many difficult and dangerous situations, but nothing had prepared him to be meeting the woman he loved with the intention of starting to court her. He was so rusty, he barely knew how to begin. He could only hope the Carter wouldn't laugh at him.

He glanced at the door again and was finally rewarded seeing Carter step through it and pause to look around while her eyes adjusted to the light. She looked gorgeous to him, she had her hair down instead of wearing it in her usual ponytail, and the soft light in the bar was incredibly flattering to her. She carried herself with confidence and pride, and her coat, belted at the waist, did not hide her trim figure.

John could not help but smile a very genuine and very big smile. His heart was dancing at seeing her, he'd held his emotions in check around her for so long and he was happy to finally let them go. It felt good.

Joss spotted him and moved towards the booth. John's smile grew wider as he caught several men discreetly turning their heads so they could get a good look at her as she moved past them. He was quite proud to be the one who she was meeting. "Go ahead and look boys, because after tonight, she's MINE", he thought to himself.

He stood as she approached the booth, still wearing the big smile. Joss shot him a puzzled look, she wasn't used to seeing anything other than a smirk plastered on his face. She did notice that the big smile made him even more handsome, if that was even possible, and she silently cursed as her body reacted to his smiling, handsome presence with a rush of warmth between her legs. She just knew this was going to be one frustrating night, ending with a cold shower.

John only added to her discomfort by putting his arms around her and giving her a very firm hug. Had anyone been looking over John's shoulder at her, they would have seen her eyes open wide in surprise and shock. She feebly tried to return the hug, but her arms had been trapped at her sides by John's arms and she could only reach his hips. Her attempt at hugging him back had the unfortunate effect of pressing his hips and groin into her body and she hastily abandoned the idea before she embarrassed herself in front of the whole bar.

John finally released her. "Who are you and what did you do with John?" Joss joked weakly as he took her coat and hung it on the hook on the wall separating their booth from the next one.

John only turned on the devastating smile brighter, "Can't a guy just be glad to see you, Carter?"

Joss arched an eyebrow at him as she settled into the booth, "John, I don't think I have ever seen you smile like that before, much less gotten a hug from you."

"Well, Carter, things change, often for the better."

"OK, so what changed?"

"I had an epiphany today. I had a long talk with a good friend, and I feel good for the first time in a long time."

"Well, you certainly seem cheerful enough for once."

The waitress appeared and took Joss's order.

Joss looked over at John, "So why did you call me here?"

John looked almost shy, "Because I wanted to spend some time with you when no one was shooting at us."

Joss laughed. John happily watched her laugh. He thought she was beautiful when she laughed; actually he thought she was beautiful all the time.

Joss saw the way he was looking at her. "What?" she asked, completely confused by this new, happy John.

John, remembering what Mildred had said, decided it was time to just be honest, "You're beautiful when you laugh, do you know that?"

Joss stared. John Reese thought she was beautiful? And he wanted to spend time with her? Had the world gone insane?

The waitress brought her drink and Joss seized her wine glass a little too quickly and took a large gulp. John watched her with amusement. There was another rush of heat between her legs when she saw the way he was watching her.

Tentatively, John reached across the table and held her hand, "Do you remember the first day in the precinct, the day we first saw each other?"

Joss smiled, ducked her head and looked at him from underneath her eyelashes, "Yes, and I must say, I prefer you all cleaned up and in a suit."

John chuckled. Joss did not think she'd ever heard him laugh before. She decided she liked it, and wanted to hear it again.

John grew serious and his amazing blue eyes locked onto her soft brown ones. "I felt a connection, almost from the second you walked into the room. It made me uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable, why?"

"Because I wasn't ready for it. I wasn't ready to move on, to move beyond Jessica." He paused and looked away. "You mentioned New Rochelle when you pulled me over as I was taking Marshall Jennings down to Mexico, so I assume you know that story."

Joss took a deep breath, "I know you loved her, I know you left her because she couldn't handle the military life and you weren't ready to leave that life after 9/11. I know she married Peter Arndt and he killed her." Joss stopped and looked John straight in the eye, "I know you killed Peter for what he did to her. And then you nearly drank yourself to death over her."

John bowed his head and started to withdraw his hand from hers. He should have known this was not going to work. Of course Joss would know he was killer, know what he had done. How could a cop care for a murderer?

But Joss held on tight as soon as she realized he was trying to withdraw. He looked up in surprise.

"Carter… Joss…You know what I am, what I've done…."

"I know you saved my life, I know you saved my son's life. I've lost count of all the people you have saved John. Yes, I know do what you are, what you've done."

John stared into his beer for a few minutes, but he did not try to withdraw his hand again. Mildred had been right; Joss was not repulsed by him and his bloody past, she seemed to care for him too. Time to go for broke.

"Do remember when we were staking out the Drakes, how we talked about moving on?" She nodded. John looked up from his beer and his intense blue eye meet Joss's soft brown ones once again, "Are you ready to move on?" he asked softly.

Carter hesitated. She hardly dared to hope John was asking what she thought he was asking. This was new territory for her as well, but she decided that it was time to explore this undiscovered country. She looked John straight in the eye. "Yes."

John took a deep breath, "I'm ready to move to move on, too. And I would like to move on with you." Pause. "If you will have me."

Joss stared at him while she absorbed what he'd just said. His eyes met hers, open and hopeful. He watched carefully as she went from shock to amazement to happiness.

"Oh, John…"

Joss got up and moved over so she was sitting next to him. She reached up, cupped her hand behind his head and pulled him down for a kiss. John pulled her close to his body and held her tight as he returned her kiss.

They finally had to break apart, but John did not relinquish his hold on her. His lips hovered right over hers, so close she felt them brush when he spoke.

"Is that a yes? Would you like to try this with me?"

"There is nothing I want more, John". And they kissed again.

John reached into his pocket and pulled out the velvet box.

"Merry Christmas, Joss".

Joss opened the box, and almost cried. "John, they're beautiful!" She removed her ever present silver hoops and put the ruby earrings on. She tucked her hair behind ears and turned her head so they sparkled in the low light of the bar.

"They look good on you", John smiled. And he kissed her again.

Harold Finch, watching from the security camera in the corner grumbled, "About time, Mr. Reese", and cut the connection. It was time to give them their privacy.

* * *

**OK, I promise that this time, I really am done! However Mildred will be making a return appearance in another story I'm planning on posting on New Year's Eve. This time she will be visiting with Joss.**


End file.
